Page 48 of Marked By Tank
His mouth tilts.
I spread my hand over his chest, over the hard beat beneath skin still damp with sweat. “You say things like that and I’m not going to know what to do with myself.”
“I know exactly what to do with you.”
That sends another shiver through me.
And then I realize something else.
He took care of me.
He watched my face. Asked for words. Made sure I came apart before he let himself go.
My gaze drops before I can stop it.
Down his chest. The broad plane of his stomach. The trail of dark hair disappearing lower. The thick, heavy line of him already hard again against his thigh.
Heat floods me so fast my whole body goes tight.
His hand stills on my back.
When I look up, he is watching me.
Hungry. Curious. Dangerous.
“You took care of me,” I say quietly.
“Yeah.”
“I want to do something for you too.”
The room goes still around us.
His chest rises once under me.
“Julie.”
Just my name, and somehow it feels like a touch.
“I mean it.”
His hand slides up my back, fingers spreading wide between my shoulder blades.
“You don’t owe me a damn thing.”
“I know.” I swallow. “I just want to.”
He watches me for so long I start to feel each second in my skin.
Then his hand catches in my hair and he kisses me slowly.
A kiss that feels like permission and warning all at once.
When his mouth leaves mine, he says against my lips, “You got no idea what that does to a man.”
Maybe I do not.
Maybe I want to find out.
